


(And They'll Say) All the Salt in the World Couldn’t Melt that Ice

by ifwallscouldspeak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Caught Making Out, Coming Out, F/F, Femslash February, It Seems Like It's Always An Election Cycle on Riverdale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwallscouldspeak/pseuds/ifwallscouldspeak
Summary: Josie knows that tone of voice, and she knows what ‘I have a rally on Friday means.’ It means parading Josie and Cheryl around in front of her constituents - in front of Josie’s friends and peers and fans - and using them as a political talking point.(Inspired by the prompt “take a deep breath.”)





	(And They'll Say) All the Salt in the World Couldn’t Melt that Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Big Casino" by Jimmy Eat World.
> 
> Written for my personal [Femslash February](http://lo-cotidiano.tumblr.com/tagged/jennifer+does+femslash+february) challenge :)

+++

 

Cheryl pushes Josie back on her queen-sized bed, laughing loudly as soon as her hands touch her shoulders. Josie grins up at her as she bounces back, trying to get into a better position to lean up on her elbows. Her gaze follows the rhythm of Cheryl’s lips, bold red lipstick smeared a little across her chin and cheek.

She’s just  - she’s so damn happy, right now, in this moment. It’s always like this, with Cheryl, when it’s just the two of them. They just laugh and tease and poke fun at each other, the rest of Riverdale just kind of melting away at the edges. If Josie’s honest with herself - and she so seldom is, can so seldom afford to be - times like this are the only times when she feels a hundred percent like herself. Nothing gives her a bigger thrill or a larger sense of comfort than Cheryl, not even being up on stage.

She hopes that Cheryl feels the same way that she does, about this. About her. About them.

“Kiss me,” Cheryl demands as she settles into Josie’s lap, bare thighs bracketing Josie’s leopard-print leggings.

“You’re so bossy,” Josie tells her.

Cheryl flicks her hair over her shoulder, a feral grin on her face. “You love it.”

Josie leans up closer to her, lips just a hair’s width apart. “Says who?”

Cheryl’s hand crawls up between their bodies, underneath Josie’s top, to gently cup her breast. Josie’s breath hitches again once she feels Cheryl’s nail circle underneath her bra, pebbling her nipple. She gasps and her eyes never leave Cheryl’s.

“Says you, Josie McCoy,” Cheryl says.

It’s the same voice she uses whenever she’s about to go in someone. Yet despite the victorious look on her face, her eyes are softer, intimate. She grinds her lap down onto Josie’s, and Josie surges forward, kissing Cheryl again. Cheryl makes a small, pleased noise that rings in Josie’s ears. Cheryl’s all that she can feel and all that she can hear, then; she’s so caught up in them.

That’s her excuse, anyway, when she barely hears the short knock on her door. And then, not two seconds later, she doesn’t quite catch her mother’s heels clicking on the hardwood floor nor her mother’s shocked gasp.

Cheryl does, however.

Right away.

“Mayor McCoy,” Cheryl says.

Josie stiffens, but Cheryl springs right into action as if they weren’t just dry-humping each other. She smoothly flips off of Josie and lands onto the floor with barely a noise. It just takes a flick of her wrist to smooth out her long, red hair and a few short tugs of her fingers to get her designer dress back into place. Cheryl pats at the corners of her mouth and her chin, smiling serenely at Josie’s mother.

Josie, meanwhile, is still sprawled on her bed, mortification washing over her. She meets her mother’s gaze. It’s the same look of shock in her eyes that Josie saw the first time she won the mayoral race. It’s a look that says, _I can’t fucking believe this, but I’m not exactly sure why, after all this time._

“Cheryl,” her mother says, finally. "Josie."

“Mayor McCoy,” Cheryl repeats herself.

“Mom,” Josie wills her legs to move, but she can’t find the energy to stand up.

They all remain still, just staring at each other. Her mother and Cheryl are stock-still, as if they’re carved from the same sculpture; Josie tries not to think too much about the similarities between them, right now. Silence drones on, and Josie sort of wishes that Cheryl would hold her hand, maybe.

But then again, she thinks, that might trigger something much worse.

Fuck.

“What is this, exactly?” her mother asks finally. “Is this - just two girl friends fooling around? Or is this girlfriends fooling around?”

Josie hears the inflection in her voice right away, and glances down at her fingernails. She’s not quite sure how to answer the question, though she knows how she wants to. It’s just  - they haven’t talked about any of that yet, her and Cheryl. They haven’t told anyone about each other - about them - and they don’t kiss or hold hands at school. But this thing between them, it’s more real and more raw than any of the couples that Josie sees in the hallway.  It - it feels like love, and it feels like Josie finally knows what Aretha and Diana and Tina were all singing about.

She takes a deep breath, but it’s Cheryl who answers.

Her voice is calm and steady. “We’re a couple, Mayor McCoy.”

Josie has to stop herself from gaping at Cheryl.

“A couple?” Mrs. McCoy asks.

Cheryl nods, and tilts her head slightly. Her eyes catch onto Josie’s and they’re warm, so warm, and beautiful. Cheryl’s lips turn into a smile. And it’s just for Josie; it mirrors her laugh and the way her fingers trail up Josie’s body and the way her skin tastes on Josie’s tongue.

“We’re in love,” Cheryl tells her mother.

Her mother is quiet for a few moments. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Josie echoes. “Just like that?”

Her mother takes a deep breath and then releases it. “Who knows?”

A feeling of dread crawls down Josie’s spine. “No one, yet. But -”

“Good, then that means we can get out ahead of it before it gets out,” her mother nods decisively. “We - you two girls - get to control the narrative of how, where, and when. Though -”

“Though?” Josie’s head spins.

“I have a rally on Friday,” her mother says. “And - ”

“Mom,” that has Josie sliding off of her bed now, annoyance spiking in her. “Mom, no -”

Josie knows that tone of voice, and she knows what ‘I have a rally on Friday means.’ It means parading Josie and Cheryl around in front of her constituents - in front of Josie’s friends and peers and fans - and using them as a political talking point. It means standing in a dress that’s too tight and too itchy, her hair pulled back into a reasonable and ‘professional’ bun. It means memorizing and spouting a pre-scripted speech that her mother’s campaign manager had written at one the morning hours before.

Josie’s sure it’s going to be something mundane and horrible, like _my mother is tough on crime, but she’s soft when it comes to love. And as her openly queer daughter, I’m here to tell you: I was raised in a household with solid values, with parents who believe that love is love. We should all have equal protections under the law, no matter who we chose to be with. So if you want to live in a compassionate, loving city, please vote Sierra McCoy!_

“It’s a re-election year, Josie,” her mother says.

“Mom -”

“We’ll do it, Mayor McCoy,” Cheryl answers, giving her mother a tight-lipped smile.

Her mother breathes a sigh of relief, as if Josie’s not standing there, almost shaking with rage. Her mother smiles indolently at Cheryl. Josie clenches her teeth and swings her head, looking back and forth between her mother and her - she’s not sure, but she guess now - girlfriend. Something passes between them, and then her mother’s nodding her head and leaving the room. She pointedly leaves the door open, which makes Josie roll her eyes.

“Cheryl!” she hisses. “What the hell!”

Cheryl turns on her heel. “Calm down, Josie. Take a breath and -”

Josie’s up on her knees, glaring. “Don’t tell me to calm down! You just agreed to out us in front of the whole town -”

“Josie,” Cheryl says.

Her voice is softer now. It’s not quite the flat tone she usually has when something emotional happens to anyone that’s not her. Rather, it’s almost apologetic and gentle. She takes a hesitant step forward, biting her lip, until her thighs hit the mattress. She reaches out, hands waiting for Josie to place them in hers. Josie purses her lips and sighs, before holding Cheryl’s hands too. She can already feel herself melting, and she kind of hates it.

“Well, what?” Josie tries to snap.

“I’m in love you,” Cheryl says.

It’s simple and there’s no conceit, no trickery behind it.

“Oh,” Josie says, her body buzzing.

Cheryl smiles then. “Yeah, oh. And - your mom’s right. It’s better to control the narrative than have a story be told about you.”

Josie sighs. “I know.”

“And you got this,” Cheryl says. “We’ve got it. I’m with you, a hundred percent. All in.”

Josie takes a deep breath. “Cheryl...”

“I know,” Cheryl says, winking. “I liked having you all to myself, too.”

Josie can’t help her answering grin. “That’s not what I was going to say, Cheryl!”

“Wasn’t it, though?” Cheryl wrinkles her nose just a little bit, teasing.

“You’re the worse, you know that?” Josie asks, tugging her back onto the bed.

“You love me anyway,” Cheryl says, before leaning in and kissing her again.

 

+++


End file.
